Of Dogs
by alanye
Summary: Remus muses about Sirius on the night of his next transformation, as well as his certain love for dogs SBRL slash


Long drabble.  That's all I can call this, but I wrote it anyway.  It's weird that I'm writing yet another one shot, especially if I have a much longer one of this pairing that I just can't bring myself to finish...  

So this is just a little first person musing by Remus about his relationship with Sirius, as well as the kinship that he always feels with dogs.  

And on another note, I swear I *am* working on the fourth chapter of Fumbling Dreams for anyone who's following that.  It's well.. started, and I know what's going to happen but... I can't find the time to sit down and write it.  I will though, I promise!  

And don't forget to review; nothing makes me want to write more than a review!  I was having a bit of a tense catastrophe, so if there are any mistakes I didn't catch I'd love it if you'd point them out.  Thanks, and enjoy!

**Of Dogs**

By alanye

I always liked dogs.  Maybe because I have a sort of kinship towards them, regarding my condition.  Fur and fangs, a lovely combination.  I believe I felt this way even before my little incident with a more violent species.  We a dog once, a chocolate lab with dark stormy eyes.  She was a loving creature, as I recall, and that may have been her downfall.  

After I was bitten she stayed by my side acting as my comfort when no one else could.  She wasn't wary of the wolf; that was the problem.  It was my second or third transformation, and we must have forgotten to lock her away so she couldn't get to me.  Even as she heard me snarling she would scrape at the door demanding entrance in order to be with me.  At the time I was less than half coherent, and I couldn't control my actions in the slightest.  It was all the wolf's doing.

There was a scratching at the door, and the next thing I knew the door was open and she was through, running towards me as fast as she could.  At least that was before she realized what was standing before her.  I heard the door slam, then, and I figure that my parents had noticed the open door, and closed it before I could do them harm.  My dog was not so lucky.

_Dog.__  Fur.  Teeth.  Kin._

_No, food.__  Meat.  Food, hungry..._

And then the whimpering.  It haunted me for weeks.  Waking up to the half eaten corpse of my beloved dog, blood all over the floor, and all over me, caused me so much pain that I couldn't live with myself.  It was that time that was the worst for me, for I was utterly alone.  My dog was my comfort, and I had destroyed it all by myself.

I had to wait many years before I had another dog to be with me.

~

A snout and two deep blue grey eyes peek out from beneath the rug.  Its body is poorly hidden, the rug out of shape, molded to the figure of the dog.  I laugh, for I could even see his tail wagging from its hiding place under the shaggy rug.

Seconds later the dog is replaced with a man, the most handsome and loving man I have ever know.  In seconds, he is standing in front of me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me towards him.  

Smiling, I awaited the kiss that should soon follow.  When his lips are on mine, all my cares just... float away and are replaced with the most intense feeling of warmth and protection.  It is a sweet and gentle caress, but it springs from me more want than I could ever imagine – since the last time he kissed me.  Even as he pull away I find myself panting and pulling him back towards me.  

His lips taste remotely of butterbeer with a hint of cinnamon honey.  When they meet mine again, I stroke his back, and gently open his mouth with my own.  It is a playful way in which our tongues move, spinning together and apart in a dance of emotion and pleasure.  Feelings course through my body, but my judgment hasn't quite left, and it tells me to pull away.  My head is spinning even as I remove myself from these sensations.  I look at the face in front of me, smiling, with eyes twinkling with starlight.  Shining lights draw me into the deep grey of his eyes, as if never to let me go.

But I shake myself out of it, and remember why we are in the dark dusty Shrieking Shack.  Tonight is the night of the full moon.  The wolf would rise out of its thin, protected casing.  I can feel him stirring, longing to escape.  Longing to escape to go on the prowl with his mate.  

The wolf is never complete unless Padfoot is there, much like myself and Sirius.  On nights when he isn't there I am torn apart, and the wolf is wild with a passion unseen in its eyes.  Looking up at Sirius I wonder how one man can have such a large effect on me and my life.  A positive effect though, for without Sirius I am not myself, and I could never imagine living without him.  I don't think I could.

I feel the transformation creep over me, incipient warnings of terror to come.  I shiver, and Sirius looks at me with a longing to ease my pain he knows will hit me in just a few short minutes.  If only he knows how much he already does.  I begin to put up my semblance of controlled emotion, and put on the well crafted mask to shield Sirius from the pain I go through each month.  

I glance back at him just in time to see his body contorting into the shape of Padfoot, and wonder if his transformation is as painful as mine....

And then, all of a sudden, I feel the searing pain course through my body.  The feeling of muscles growing, skin tearing and ripping, and bones shifting surrounds me.  As always my body convulses with pain and the last coherent thought I have is how the pain is so visible in the dog's stormy eyes... And then the wolf took over.

_Dark.__  Pain, blood.  Wet and dark.  Lonely.  Wait -- pack.  Padfoot.  Need Padfoot. Ahh Padfoot.  Play fight, romp in dark.  Teeth.  Fur.  Kin, Mate._

The wolf is always in complete control in times like this, and only my Padfoot can help keep him in check.  It does seem to work, because the wolf is so overwhelmed by its fellow canine that it forgets about hurting other people... as well as its carrier.  Just like when I'm with Sirius all seems to fade to black and the whole world surrounds him and only him.  On these nights the wolf loves to run, loves to be exposed to the bright swirling light of the moon.  

But Sirius is the contrast to that light in color, but in heart he just adds to it with the power of a thousand transformations.  I don't know what I would do without him, and I hope that I never find out.  He _is_ my kin, wolf form or no.  

I don't remember much of our monthly romps, only that the wolf is in ectasy, not knowing of my pain.  He is free, and that is all that matters.  The brightness of the moon is something that implants in my memory, and how Sirius looks like a mere apparition in its light.

Time passes.

~

I awaken, and all I know is pain.  Worse than a hangover, the feeling of unstable ground and physical pain finds its way through me and into my very bones.  I always transform back into my true form at the very end of the night with very little memory of the time I spent with my other half; I only recall snatches of white light and a black dog.  

But now, I realize that I'm not alone.  I open my heavy eyes and find myself looking upon a most beautiful sight.  Sirius looks so angelic when he sleeps.  His grey eyes are closed and his long lashes are curled in a delicate crescent.  His face is relaxed in his sleep and his cherry lips are curved in a smile meant only for one he loves.  I smile knowing that his love is none other than his eccentric werewolf.  

His strong arms are circling my waist and holding me to him; I always need comfort on these mornings.  It eases the pain to a dull throb and allows me to focus on something much more delightful.  I can feel his skin warming my cold, scarred skin, and I am suddenly ashamed.  The scars are something that marks me for what I truly am: a monster.  

My mind quickly shifts back to Sirius when he emits a very canine whimper.  I laugh, even though my lungs hurt, and bury my aching head to his chest.  If I am wolf, he is equally dog.  It means that we are in fact kin, whether he knows it or not.  Without him I would be lost.  Dogs are said to be loyal, but in his case that is a mighty understatement.  He is a blessing, and my torn body can feel the tenderness in his embrace even as he sleeps.  

I have always liked dogs, but now I know it runs deeper than the love of soft fur or a wet nose, even deeper than the mark of a werewolf.  Sirius is my life, and I know that he will never leave me.

He whimpers again, and his eyes open.  I smile, and take his morning lips in a kiss of triumph and love.  I have a dog again.

___________________________

Aww, don't we all love sap:P  Don't forget to leave a review -- I have another post OotP Remus/Sirius (not happy but not too depressing) but I can't quite finish it.  It's been sitting there since November waiting to be written... I think I need a little bit of reassurance.  

And I always wonder about fragments in first person narration.  Are they okay because it's almost like speech?  Who knows :P


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